


your hand on my chest is my hand

by ghostscissoring (shmabs)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (it's not the focus but it's there), Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Nipple Piercings, Non-Binary Minghao, Other, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering, buff dyke gf seokmin, don't worry everyone this is still unbearably tender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:40:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24981715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shmabs/pseuds/ghostscissoring
Summary: It’s always been easy to rile Seokmin up, to get her body shivery and wanting. Soonyoung used to joke that a stiff breeze could get Seokmin to the edge, so long as the breeze told her she was being good. So Minghao is used to seeing Seokmin’s cute nipples making themselves known beneath her thin t-shirts, is familiar with the taste of them, the shape of them.They look different.
Relationships: Lee Seokmin | DK/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 12
Kudos: 147





	your hand on my chest is my hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earthshaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthshaker/gifts).



> happy dia day here are some gross gays in love !!!!!
> 
> this is just the first chapter so pls look forward to the next grosser, gayer installment of these babes 
> 
> also take better care of ur piercings than seokmin xoxo

_I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_  
_or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._  
_I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_  
_in secret, between the shadow and the soul._  
  
_I love you as the plant that never blooms_  
_but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;_  
_thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,_  
_risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body._  
  
_I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._  
_I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_  
_so I love you because I know no other way than this:_  
  
_where I does not exist, nor you,_  
_so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,_  
_so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep._  
  
-Pablo Neruda, Sonnet XVII

The first thing Seokmin says when Minghao walks through the door is, “I’m sorry.”

If this had been the Minghao and Seokmin of two years ago, Minghao might have started panicking. They would have been on edge at the very least, waiting for Seokmin to tell them she didn’t want to be with them anymore, or that Seokmin had found someone else, someone better.

Now, after three years of dating and two years of living together, sharing space and time and worldly possessions, Minghao takes a moment to hang up their coat in the hall closet, place their shoes carefully in the shoe rack, and walk over to where Seokmin is leaning against the kitchen counter to kiss her.

It’s meant to be brief, just a quick _hello, I missed you_ , but it’s been almost twelve hours since Minghao last saw Seokmin sleep rumpled and naked in their bed, and Minghao can’t help but lean forward into it, trying to mold themself along the strong column of Seokmin’s body until they combine, foundational.

Seokmin responds as she always does, mouth opening obediently, pressing back as Minghao presses forward as reliable as the tide, and Minghao is ready to ignore whatever benign thing Seokmin thought was worth apologizing over when they grab the back of Seokmin’s head to bring her even closer and Seokmin lets out a strangled yelp that makes Minghao spring away.

Seokmin’s eyes are wide and her chest is heaving and--

Minghao’s mouth goes dry.

“Xingan?”

It’s always been easy to rile Seokmin up, to get her body shivery and wanting. Soonyoung used to joke that a stiff breeze could get Seokmin to the edge, so long as the breeze told her she was being good. So Minghao is used to seeing Seokmin’s cute nipples making themselves known beneath her thin t-shirts, is familiar with the taste of them, the shape of them.

They look different.

“Ah so, I went to that tattoo and piercing shop with Jisoo unnie today,” Seokmin breathes into the empty space between them. Minghao thinks it’s probably pretty rude that they can’t stop staring at Seokmin’s tits, but her nipples are hard and peaked invitingly and they can just see the outlines of two little balls flanking each one.

“And you’re sorry because…” Minghao says, tearing their eyes away from Seokmin’s chest to rest on the blush pink glow of her cheeks. Minghao has learned that it’s best not to chastise Seokmin when she apologizes for something she doesn’t need to. It used to make them angry, how Seokmin was always so dead set on making sure other people were happy to the point that she would inconvenience herself over and over, apologizing all along the way. Now, Minghao just tries to listen when Seokmin gets the urge to apologize out of the blue.

“Well, it was a really last minute decision, like the absolute lastest minute you can imagine because the shop was closing soon, but unnie was talking about how she had met this girl Mingyu at a party and she had super cool octopus nipple rings and I was like ‘Oh I’ve always kind of wanted to get my nipples pierced,’ because I have, and the piercer who did unnie’s new cartilage piercing was like ‘I love piercing nipples, they’re so easy and my clients always come back a few weeks later thanking me haha,’ so I thought why not, you know? So I asked if they had time, because I didn’t want to be rude, and Jeonghan hyung said, ‘For tits that nice, I’ve got time,’ which was really sweet of them but I told them I was taken, but they still said they’d pierce me and then they did and, um,” at this point Minghao can tell that Seokmin is running out of steam, and obviously the only solution is to crowd her against the kitchen counter again, running their hands under Seokmin’s tank until they can palm at the warm expanse of Seokmin’s waist.

“Baby, take a breath. Are you sorry because you decided you don’t like them?”

Seokmin shakes her head, twisting calloused fingers into Minghao’s button-down. She tugs on it until it comes untucked from their pants and Minghao shivers at the press of Seokmin’s fingers against their hips, the way they mirror each other in desire, always so hungry for closeness, connection.

“I don’t know why I’m apologizing,” Seokmin finally admits, and Minghao has to steal another kiss from her full lips for that, careful not to brush their torsos together again. “I guess I just figured you’d want me to tell you before I did something like this.”

“You can do whatever you want with your body,” Minghao murmurs instead of attempting to go back in time and beat the shit out of Seokmin’s previous partners, the ones who looked at her like a prize to be won instead of the sun in the goddamn sky. “But I’d like to see them, if you want to show me.”

Minghao doesn’t mean for it to come out sounding like it does, breathless and wanting, but that’s exactly how they feel.

“Okay, yeah,” Seokmin squeaks, and Minghao wastes no time in pulling her tank top gently over her head, careful not to jostle the piercings or the glasses perched delicately on her nose. She’s not wearing a bra, which Minghao already knew, but it still comes as a shock when Minghao sees the metal bars pierced through the dusky brown of Seokmin’s nipples.

“Oh, fuck,” Minghao breathes, one hand coming up automatically to cup the slight swell of her breast, warm and familiar in the palm of their hand. “They look so good baby.”

Seokmin squirms, hands gripping the kitchen counter and pushing her chest further forward into Minghao’s touch. “Yeah?” she asks, shuddering when Minghao dips down to press an open, wet kiss to the flat of her sternum.

“Mmhmm,” Minghao hums their assent. Minghao wants to take the metal between their teeth, roll their tongue against it until it’s spit wet and warm, wants to tug at Seokmin’s nipples until she’s wet and begging for more. “Does it hurt?” they ask instead, because Seokmin’s nipples are puffy and swollen, a small smear of vibrant red making Minghao hesitate.

“Ah, a little, but it’s not too bad. Mostly just sore. You can help me clean them in a minute, if you want?”

When it comes to Seokmin, Minghao always wants.

“It’s easy enough,” Seokmin explains after Minghao nods and steps back to let her gather all the supplies. Casual nudity wasn’t something that Seokmin was readily comfortable with until recently, and it makes Minghao pulse with something hot and sticky to see her walk around their space without shame, torso bare to the dip of her spine.

She motions for Minghao to sit down in one of the chairs tucked neatly under their small kitchen table, and Minghao does, but their eyes don’t leave Seokmin. There is a magnet in Minghao’s chest tugging them towards her, always.

Seokmin settles across Minghao’s thighs with the heaviness of gravity, bearing down until they’re pressed so tightly together Minghao can barely breathe.

It is easy, once Seokmin has gone over everything - the saline and the anti bacterial cream and the gloves that Seokmin helps Minghao pull on, the tight stretch of the latex pulling at the hair on Minghao’s knuckles.

“I’ll do the left one first,” Minghao announces when they’re ready, Seokmin’s arms wrapped loosely around Minghao’s shoulders, her fingers tangled in the mess of hair at the back of their neck. They turn to the side just enough to press a quick kiss to Seokmin’s bicep, and then they focus, going methodically through the steps just like Seokmin had explained.

It’s quick work and Minghao is done with both in five minutes, and it’s only then that they notice the way Seokmin is shivering in their lap, thighs trying to press together but unable to with Minghao in the way.

“Ah, Minghao, it hurts,” Seokmin whines, chest heaving. She squirms, unable to keep her hips still, and it’s then that Minghao realizes Seokmin is _turned on_ , not just in pain. Or maybe some combination of the two.

Minghao snaps one of the gloves off quickly and brings that hand down to cup Seokmin through her shorts, pressing two fingers in hard to tease at her opening.

“You’re so wet though,” Minghao marvels; even through the layers Minghao can feel how wet she is. “Do you like it that much?”

Seokmin looks like she wants to hide her face in Minghao’s hair, but Minghao is keeping an iron grip on the warm skin of Seokmin’s waist, so instead she tips her face up toward the ceiling. Minghao looks up at Seokmin--the architecture of her face, the strength evident in her thighs, the thickness of her body--and feels set aflame.

“Seokminnie, tell me. Do you like when it hurts?” They press in a little deeper and Seokmin lets out a broken gasp. If her shorts weren’t in the way Minghao would have two fingers sheathed completely inside her. It’s okay though; Minghao can be patient.

“Fuck Hao, don’t make me say it,” she pouts, and Minghao takes their hand away, rests it on the meat of Seokmin’s thigh instead. “Nooooo,” she whines when she looks down and sees Minghao, comfortable with Seokmin sitting astride their lap, looking expectantly up at Seokmin. Waiting for her to give in.

“You know the deal.”

“But I’m injured,” Seokmin simpers, pout deepening. She scoots closer, legs spreading even wider as she tugs at Minghao’s hand, trying to slip it into her shorts. Minghao lets her, holds her gaze as she guides two of Minghao’s fingers inside and immediately starts shaking, eyes fluttering shut.

“Tell me how you want it and you can have it,” Minghao tells her. Seokmin is so wet, pungent and heady, Minghao can taste it on the back of their tongue.

“Feels good when you--” Seokmin starts, but before she can finish Minghao brings their gloved hand up to gently twist at one of the metal bars. Seokmin has always been sensitive, easy to rile up, to get her wet and wanting, but it takes more concentrated effort to make her come. Steady pressure on her clit, a vibrator or one of their dildos attached to Minghao’s harness as they fuck into her just right. Minghao knows Seokmin’s body, has loved it for longer than they’ve been officially dating, so it comes as something of a surprise when Seokmin wails, loud and startled at Minghao’s gentle touch, clenching maddeningly around their fingers and humping her hips down to get them in deeper as she comes, wetness dripping down past Minghao’s wrist.

“Oh my god,” Seokmin whimpers when Minghao pulls their hand out of her shorts, wiping some of the slick off on Seokmin’s belly. “Holy shit, I don’t think I can move.”

Minghao laughs, twin heartbeats thrumming in their neck and their pussy, desperate to take Seokmin apart, to learn her body anew. “That’s alright,” they rasp, “you don’t have to.”

Carefully, Minghao slides them off the kitchen chair and onto the cool tile of the floor. Seokmin wriggles off her shorts and cotton underwear as soon as she’s horizontal, shivering a little.

“Let me eat you out,” Seokmin grins smugly up at Minghao, one arm cushioning her head from the floor. The bulge of her bicep is both intentional and effective, as is the dark curls of her armpit hair, and Minghao feels torn between fucking the smirk off Seokmin’s face and sitting on it like she requested.

“You can fuck me later if you want, Daddy,” she says, and Minghao decides that the sooner Seokmin’s mouth is occupied, the better.

Minghao kicks off their clothes and shoves them under the table hastily. It’s easy to settle astride Seokmin’s face, sitting up just enough that they can still see the white of Seokmin’s wide smile as they pluck the glasses off her nose and set them aside carefully.

“Come on, come down here,” Seokmin demands, warm palms tugging at Minghao’s hips, their thighs. They wait a few seconds longer, until Seokmin starts straining up, tongue out and flat to swipe along Minghao’s slit, and the sight of it is enough to punch a moan out of their throat. It takes all Minghao’s self control to settle themself slowly onto Seokmin’s face, and as soon as they do Seokmin opens her mouth wide and starts fucking her tongue inside.

Seokmin is always so loud, messy and enthusiastic. Minghao’s face burns at the slick sounds Seokmin makes as she sucks hard at Minghao’s clit, one hand coming up to sink a finger into their cunt.

“Oh, fuck, right there.” Minghao groans, and Seokmin is so good at following directions, at being good. She lets Minghao rut their hips against her mouth, hands braced on the floor above Seokmin’s head to get better leverage.

It doesn’t take long for Minghao’s toes to curl against the tile, thighs squeezing tight around Seokmin’s ears as they shudder through orgasm, drenching Seokmin’s face as her tongue works Minghao diligently all the way through it.

Seokmin swipes the flat of her tongue along Minghao’s folds a few more times, until they groan at the oversensitivity and tip to the side, shivering at the contrast of cool tile against their overheated skin. Minghao meets Seokmin’s gaze and their face burns anew at the way the lower half of Seokmin’s face is shining, Minghao’s wetness covering her mouth and chin, some of it sliding down the line of her throat.

“So you’re a pain slut now?” Minghao jokes, a little desperately.

Seokmin closes her eyes. It looks like she’s steeling herself. She says, “Maybe,” in a voice that Minghao recognizes. The one that means she’s committed, but still scared.

“You didn’t really get these on a whim today, did you,” Minghao says, cupping one of Seokmin’s tits. They’re careful not to touch the piercing itself, not now that their fingers have been inside Seokmin, covered in her fluids.

When Seokmin smiles, it’s wry. “No. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Minghao scoots closer to Seokmin and immediately regrets doing this on their kitchen floor. It’s too late now, but Minghao knows they’ll both be stiff tomorrow.

“So instead of talking about how you might be into pain you went out and got your nipples pierced.” Minghao bites playfully at Seokmin’s ear as they say it. It’s not meant to be an accusation, just confirmation.

Seokmin covers her face in her hands and groans, embarrassed. “In my defense I didn’t realize I’d like it _that_ much.”

Minghao thinks about the look on Seokmin’s face when they twisted at her fresh piercing, the way her mouth dropped open and her whole body shook from the pain, the way she came almost immediately afterward, the slope of her body strung taut like a bow until it snapped.

“How long until they’re healed?” Minghao asks. Seokmin giggles next to them on the floor, scooting close enough that she can take Minghao’s mouth in a kiss. They can taste themself on Seokmin’s tongue, salty and a little sour, and it makes them pulse with desire all over again. They’ll never get enough of this, of Seokmin.

“You just want to know when you can suck on my tits again,” Seokmin pouts, overdramatic and so _cute_ , and Minghao giggles in response, because she’s right. “Jeonghan hyung said a couple months before they’re fully healed, but they said to come back in a few weeks so they can take a look at them.”

“I’ll go with you,” Minghao offers immediately, because there is trusting your girlfriend with her own bodily autonomy and there is trusting your girlfriend to politely turn down someone who’s already hit on her. Minghao trusts Seokmin to do both, of course, but the impulse to curl up around her, dragon protecting its treasured hoard, is something that they’ve never been able to fully shake.

Seokmin looks at them, smug, and Minghao knows that they’ve been seen through. It’s alright, though. It’s always alright, with them.

“It’ll be a date,” Seokmin smiles, and Minghao nods, cradles Seokmin’s face between their palms and kisses her mouth once more, sweet and lingering.

They’ll need to get up off the floor eventually, gather their clothes and clean up the mess they’ve made of the kitchen, but for now Minghao is content with this, the jut of Seokmin’s nose nudging against their cheek, the strength of her hands tangling in the hair at the back of their neck, holding them in place.

“Love you,” Seokmin murmurs, a quiet exhale against Minghao’s lips, and Minghao just smiles, says it back, kisses her again.

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/scissorghost)


End file.
